Page 108 of Forgotten Prejudice

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow at his annoyed face. Yet, not wanting to tease him too much, I pointed over at the bag he was holding. “What’s that?”

“Dinner.” He walked into the room and placed the bag on the table. “I thought you might be hungry.”

I reached for the bag and checked inside. “Don’t lie, you wanted to ask about the case.” Oh, he brought steaks and veggies. “Are there any mushrooms in it?” I was deadly allergic.

“Of course not, and you’re right. This food is a bribe for information,” he said and glanced at the wall. “Are those the jurors?”

“Yes, but ignore that. Let’s eat—”

“The ones on the left side are against us?” The panic in his voice was unmistakable.

The situation might have looked bad, but I knew it would be like this at the beginning.

“Relax, Ashton, it’s completely normal for the first week of a trial.”

I doubt he heard a word I’d just said with his eyes still pinned on the wall. “We’re losing.”

Putting the food away, I placed my hands on his shoulders and turned him around so that he’d face me. “We’re not losing. We haven’t even started yet.”

“H-How can you say that? Just look at the jurors!” He attempted to turn around again when I forced him to stay put. I then wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him toward the table. “Trials take time. And it’s only been a few days since this one started.” Ashton leaned a little bit closer to me. “I’ve won much harder cases.” That was a lie but for a good cause. “So promise me you won’t worry too much?”

Ashton paused for a moment before looking at me with a scowl. He was so anxious, and the nerves affected him. His beautiful face was tense, with a deep frown pulled between his pinched brows and a worried lip. I hated seeing him this way. Not because it aged him but because his sadness always affected me. I never bothered to tell him that when we were still together, but whatever he felt always reflected on me. I was somehow a mirror of his emotions. When he was joyful, so was I, and when he was sad, so was I.

Those days were far behind us, yet my urge to put a smile on his face never changed.

“How about we sit down to eat the food you brought and talk about the case? I’m sure you’ll feel better after I answer some of your questions.”

Biting his bottom lip, he nodded, and I smiled because seeing a glimpse of my little Sparrow always eased my heart.

“Has he told you anything new?” Ashton asked, referring to Camilo.

“No,” I said, wishing it wasn’t the case and that I had something to tell him to satisfy his thirst for information. Seeing how much he cared for this boy, all of those boys, was truly moving.

Swallowing hard, he looked down to stare at his empty plate. “I’m worried about him,” he whispered in a choked voice.

“I understand that.”

Camilo refused to talk to anyone. For three whole months, he hadn’t said a word to me or anyone else on the defense team. Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. The first time we met, he asked me one simple question.

Is he going to live?

At the time, Shay-Lee was still in critical condition, with his life hanging by a thread, and nobody knew the answer to that question. After I failed to give Camilo an answer, he hadn’t spoken to me. Not for three whole months, until I did have an answer.

“Still not talking?” I snorted once entering the room to find Camilo sitting as he always did, head down, eyes on his cuffed hands.

Not caring for his protest, I sat down on the opposite chair and began taking out files from my briefcase. “Your little boyfriend is awake,” I said, and for the first time, I got a reaction from him.

With deadly silence, Camilo’s eyes shot to mine. Narrowing them, he examined me closely, checking to see if I was bluffing.

“If you don’t believe me, you can read it for yourself.” I slid Shay-Lee’s medical folder on the table, and he quickly snapped it up. Pleased, I watched him as he carefully opened the folder to read the files.

“He was transferred from intensive care to a rehabilitation unit, and although it will take time, it seems like he’ll get better,” I summarized it for him.

Camilo put the folder down and looked at me. Those dark eyes hadn’t changed from when he was thirteen, when I took his prior case pro bono.

“But you know the same as me that him being alive means nothing. Not as long as his father’s around,” I said, making that point crystal clear.

His jaw twitched before he tossed the folder back at me and looked away.